The Grief Diet: On the loss of my father

He would have loved singing “Silent Night” by candlelight at the Christmas Eve service. He would have stood next to me. My mother told me that he liked hearing me sing.

He would have heard me read Twas The Night Before Christmas to his lovely granddaughters.

He would have watched me make a pie. His fears . . . well, he would have kept to himself. He would have told me it was really good even if it tasted like pumpkin flavored cardboard.

He would have sat on the big green recliner and listened to music with my husband. The two of them would have had long conversations about jazz.

My daughters would have brushed his hair, asked him questions, and said, “Grandpa, watch this!”

I would have heard my mom say, “BUUUD!” and then watched him roll his eyes. They would have teased each other like they always did.

I would have sat down with him and we would have talked for hours. We’d cover every topic from religion to politics to Bigfoot to ghosts to his childhood to my childhood.

We would have reminisced of Christmases past.

Christmas morning I would have seen him with a cup of coffee in his hand and heard him say, “Merry Christmas.”

We would have watched the Weather Channel and commented on the barometric pressure wondering what storm was looming over the pacific.

I would have seen the smile on his face as my daughters opened their gifts. He would be gleaming because of the joy written all over their little angelic faces. He would have watched them for hours playing with Barbies. It would have brought him back to a time when I was a young girl.

He would have tried to put together anything that needed assembling. He was a regular McGyver. He would have had so much patience with each little plastic gadget.

He would have reminded me of all the times he caught me red handed peaking under the tree.

He would have opened his box of chocolate covered cherries.

He would have thanked me for the socks and shirt I got him for Christmas.

He would have had the ham instead of the turkey.

He would have told me how sweet and smart his granddaughters are and how he is so proud of them.

I would have seen him physically tired and uncomfortable. He would not have complained.

I would have hugged him and told him all the things I should have said.

I would have had to say goodbye. I would tell him I love him, one more time.

I have spoken about my grief diet. It isn’t only that grief has caused me to lose some unwanted pounds, but also some zzzzz’s.  Yes, insomnia, and boy does it suck. To try and make light of my misery, I have come up list a list of things I have done to pass the time. There may be things on this list that may cause you to worry about my sanity if you are not already.

So here is my list.

• Write down things I’ve done when I can’t sleep.
• Give myself lemon peel facials.
• Rearrange my furniture.
• Look up recent Sasquatch sightings on the BFRO website.  I do believe in the possible existence of Bigfoot. I know there are more believers out there, and I know who you are.
• Watch reruns of Ghost Hunters and list personal belongings I can sell in order to buy some ghost hunting equipment. There are some new EMF detectors I would just love to have.
• Work on a puzzle and not finish it.
• Talk to our pet rats DeeDee and Krystal. I must admit, it is usually a one-way conversation that probably lasts a little too long.
• Look up the Farmer’s Almanac winter weather predictions for 2008-2009. Preparedness is very important during Colorado winters.
• Go to the gym at midnight.
• Play around on Facebook, YouTube, and organize playlists on iTunes.
• Email friends and family a little too much. I promise I am not stalking you.
• Take a trip to Walmart hoping for the one item that will make me happy.
• Wish there were theaters, malls, and bowling alleys open at 3 a.m. I am sure there are some establishments open to the public, but not places I should be hanging out during those wee hours of the morning.
• Write a list of things I want to do before I die, such as run a marathon, hike a 14er, take a fly fishing class, go on a rafting trip, talk to a psychic, learn how to box, and go on a storm chasing tour.

My deeper reflections during my insomnia include the following: contemplate my life and all the decisions I’ve made, wonder about my own mortality, and question my ultimate purpose in life. This can be cumbersome, so I often just put in an episode of Flight of The Conchords or Arrested Development. That makes it all better.

I have tried everything from sleepy time tea, Epsom salt baths with a splash of Lavender, GABA (an amino acid that promotes relaxation and mental focus), melatonin, Tylenol PM, Benadryl, Dramamine, Lunesta, Sonata, Ativan, and finally the master of all sleep aids:  AMBIEN.  I wish I could hug the person who developed this. With it, I can sometimes enjoy my bed and my 600 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets.

Finally, when all else fails, I cry.